"The rule is ironclad, I'm afraid," Hanrahan said. "Everyone here has to be first parachute-qualified, then go through the basic course." There was a pause. "Why, certainly it includes you, Miner," Hanrahan said. "Where did you get the idea that it wouldn't?"

Taylor and Ellis looked very pleased with themselves.

"I don't intend to debate this with you, Colonel," Hanrahan said, "but we can discuss it further, if you insist, when you're here for duty."

He hung the telephone up.

"I don't see why that was so funny," Hanrahan said, somewhat sharply.

"Sorry, sir," Taylor said, wiping the smile from his face.

"As a matter of fact, you should have told Colonel Miner that yourself," Hanrahan said.

"I did, sir," Taylor said. "The colonel called and told me to cut orders on his people. When she came on the line, I told his warrant officer as politely as I could that we don't have women, and she said We'll see about that' and hung up. He called back and asked me if I knew what an order was, and I told him yes, sir, that I did and that my orders were that I could cut transfer orders only on qualified people. It was then that he asked to speak to you, sir."

"We're off to a flying start, I see," Hanrahan said. "He hasn't even reported in, and I'm already a bastard." And then he changed the subject: "And what have you done about exOberleutnant Wagner's problem?"

"We have that under control, if not yet completely solved, sir," Taylor said. "And we have, so to speak, killed two birds with one stone."

"Who was the other bird?" Hanrahan asked. "Not the Craig boy?"

"Yes, sir," Ellis said.

Hanrahan made a "Come on" gesture with his hands.

"I ran him off the rappelling tower," Ellis said. "He's all right."

"You ran him off the rappelling tower?" Hanrahan asked, shaking his head. "At night?"

"I thought a little motivation was in order," Ellis said. "And it worked. He had no sooner hit the ground than he was asking if it was true he would make sergeant when he completes the course."

"I'm glad to hear that," Hanrahan said. "What about Wagner's problems?"

"I told Craig all about TPA.*"

"I don't understand that," Hanrahan said. "What about TPA?"

"I told him I would have his first sergeant approve TPA to jump school at Benning for him and Wagner. That means they would both get eight cents a mile and ration money in lieu of a plane ticket voucher and a meal ticket. Craig doesn't give a damn about the money, but that's not only a lot of money to Wagner, but he gets to take his sister along free. And without it looking like charity."

"He doesn't have a car, does he?" General Hanrahan asked.

"Private Craig is presently with the proprietor of Bragg Boulevard Motors," Ellis said, "who, after Sergeant Major Taylor telephoned him, was kind enough to drive out here to demonstrate a cream puff Volkswagen he happened to have for sale."

"You know this guy, Taylor?"

"Yes, sir. He retired out of here. I did a tour with him with the Seventh Group in Bavaria." Transportation by private automobile.

"And will this cream puff Volkswagen make it to Benning?" Hanrahan asked.

"It went through Post Inspection a week before he took it on trade," Taylor said. "And I told him it had to make it to Benning and back."

"Well, that solves that," Hanrahan said. "I gather that Private Craig did not give you the urge to knock his teeth down his throat?"

"I think he's a good kid," Ellis said. "I had to pull the story of what happened to him out like a wisdom tooth, but once he told me, I believed him. The sergeant was going to knock him around for the hell of it, and he picked on the wrong guy. I knew a sergeant like that once."

"And did you break his jaw?" Hanrahan asked.

"I think he has since been very careful about who he calls a greasy spic," Ellis said.

"Well, to repeat," Hanrahan said, "another of life's little problems solved."

"There is one small problem, General," Taylor said.

"Which is?"

"Post Finance won't pay TPA and ration money in advance."

"Why not?"

"They say it's a post regulation: They've had bad experience with people getting the advance and then spending it on something else. I also think they don't like to pay it in advance because the advance is an estimate, and they have to do more paperwork when the travel is completed."

"You talked to the finance sergeant?" Hanrahan asked. Taylor nodded. "And the finance officer?"

"One of the assistants," Taylor said. "A major."

With one hand Hanrahan reached for his telephone and pulled it to him; with the other he opened his desk drawer for the post telephone directory.

"Six Two One One Nine," Taylor said.

Hanrahan dialed 62-119 and told the sergeant who answered that he was General Hanrahan, and if the finance officer wasn't tied up, he would like a word with him.

A clever sergeant first class from Group Signal had rigged General Hanrahan's telephone with an amplifier and a speaker, so that both ends of a telephone conversation could be heard all over his office when he threw the switch. He threw the switch.

"Good afternoon, General. How may I be of service?"

"Colonel, I know you're a busy man, and I hate to bother you," Hanrahan said.

"No bother at all, sir. How can I be of help?"

"You could save your time and mine, Colonel, if you could manage to convince your sergeant that when my sergeant major calls over there, he presumes that he's calling for me."

"Is there some sort of problem, General?"

"I don't know the details, because I don't want to take the time to learn them," Hanrahan said. "What I do know is that your sergeant told my sergeant major that something my sergeant major wants done which is to say, something I want done can't be done because it's against post regulations."

"I wish I had the details, sir, I could make a more intelligent response."

"I don't think you have the time, Colonel, any more than I do, to concern yourself with the details. You and I both know that post regulations concerning finance don't apply to the Special Warfare Center, that in effect you are my finance officer and thus charged with providing what finance services army regulations and I require."

"Yes, sir," the finance officer said.

"So far I have found those services perfectly adequate, Colonel," Hanrahan said.

"General, I'm sure this is a simple misunderstanding."

"On the part of your sergeant, you mean?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I have every confidence that you'll be able to straighten out any misunderstandings he has by the time my sergeant major calls back, and that hereafter neither you nor I will have to concern ourselves with the petty details of getting a couple of enlisted men a travel advance."

"Yes, sir," the finance officer said. "Thank you, General, for bringing this to my attention."

"If there's anything the Special Warfare Center can ever do for you, Colonel, give a holler."

"Thank you very much, General."

"Good afternoon, Colonel," Hanrahan said, and hung up.

"Wipe the smile off your face, Taylor," Hanrahan said. "You should have been able to handle that yourself."

"Sir," Taylor said, "I was just marveling at what an amazing difference one little word makes."

"What word?"

"General," Taylor said.

Hanrahan considered that a moment. "You have been reading my mind, again, as a good sergeant major should," Hanrahan said. "Anything else?"

"One thing, sir. About the beer for the mess halls?" Taylor said.

"What's the problem there?"

"Sir, we just got the check from the PX. It's beer-bust time. I was about to suggest that instead of buying beer to celebrate your promotion, you might consider a cow roast."

"A what?"

"There's a couple of guys, Mex's "

"Mexican-Americans, if you please' Sergeant Major," Ellis said. "Or we minority-group members will rise in rebellion."

"There's a couple of Texans," Taylor said, "in Dog Company who get whole cows and roast them over fires. We can't use the PX money for that we have to spend that through the PX but if the general was willing to spring for a couple of cows "

"The word, I believe, is steers," Hanrahan said. " then we could use the PX check to buy beer, beans, and whatever else goes with it."

"Go ahead," Hanrahan said. "That seems like a good idea. You want the money now?"

"I'll get a bill, sir."

"Could I come?"

"Yes, sir, of course. I thought Sunday afternoon?"

"Fine," Hanrahan said.

"I'll get the word out, sir," Taylor said.

"That's it?" Hanrahan asked.

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

"You done good, you two," Hanrahan said. "Why does that worry me?"

They saluted and left the office.

They were both pleased with themselves. Lieutenant Ellis had got Lowell's cousin off on the right foot and handled the problem of Wagner's poverty as neatly as it could have been done.

And by recruiting the two Mex's in Dog Company to roast their cows, Sergeant Major Taylor had frustrated General Hanrahan's foolish intention to spend a lot more money than he could afford by buying every sonofabitch in a green hat two beers. The Mex's would roast free (they normally charged $200) two cows and fix the other food, and Hanrahan would not have to cash in any war bonds or float a loan at the bank in order to throw a party for his troops to celebrate his promotion. Nor would he ever suspect what had happened.

These kinds of things, they believed, were what aides-decamp and sergeants major were supposed to do.

(Four) The Officer's Mess Subic Bay Naval Station Commonwealth of the Philippines 1730 Hours, 24 December 1961 If he stayed at the bar, Major Philip Sheridan Parker IV thought, he would certainly get drunk. He had just finished a twelve-minute telephone call with his family. He would have talked a great deal longer, even at $3.90 per minute, but from where he sat scrunched down in a phone booth, he was looking directly at a poster reminding one and all that Others were indeed waiting. All the army personnel on the Card, as well as most of her crew, had come ashore and headed for telephones. The lines were tied up. He had placed the call at 1445, and it hadn't come in until 1715. He had spent the time reading even more ancient copies of Time, L4fe, and National Geographic than were available on the carrier.

For no particular reason he chuckled and said "Jesus!"

"What did you say, Phil?" Major Jack Walsh asked.

"What I was thinking was that if I stay here, I am going to get drunk."

"Funny, that thought ran through my mind too," Walsh said, and signaled to the bartender for drinks. "Merry Christmas, Major Parker."

"I don't really want that, Jack," Phil said.

"When in Rome..." Walsh said. "The navy lives well, don't they?"

"Yes, indeed," Parker agreed. The club was elegant and luxurious. "I guess the reasoning is that they don't get to come on land very often. I don't like the navy."

"Try to keep it a secret until we get where we're going, will you?" Walsh kidded. "We have to get back on that thing."

"I meant, I don't think I'd like to be a sailor."

"I don't know," Walsh said. "They certainly treat their officers better than we get treated."

"There has to be a reason for that," Parker said. "And I don't think it's the milk of human kindness."

"I don't think I would want to be a navy enlisted man," Walsh said thoughtfully. "Did you see the troop quarters?"

"I understand that compared to smaller boats ships these are the height of luxury," Parker said.